


Sunday Morning

by papapedrospizzeria



Category: Pedro Pascal - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, goofy sex, tiddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papapedrospizzeria/pseuds/papapedrospizzeria
Summary: “Why not just put a shirt on?” He just shushes you and cuddles you harder. You even buy him a shirt to wear especially to bed (cause he’ll wear anything you buy him) but he just wears it in public with no shame.
Relationships: Pedro Pascal/Reader, Pedro Pascal/You
Kudos: 43





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay but just imagine Pedro wearing the t-shirt with the Mando gloves on the tiddies. Brought to you by the friends at the Papa Pedro's Pizzeria discord who live wrote this fic after coming up with the imagines above the page break.

_He sleeps shirtless._

_Do you think he sleeps in his boxers or is one of those who sleeps completely naked?_

_I see him in boxers no shirt, and when it’s colder out, plaid pajama pants but still no shirt._

_And he’ll be like freezing and seduce you into staying in bed with him longer for cuddles._

* * *

You ask him, “Why not just put a shirt on?” He just shushes you and cuddles you harder.

But no matter how freezing he might be, he still somehow manages to be so warm and cozy. And you just nuzzle your face into his neck and let him envelope you in his arms.

You still will tease him about putting on a shirt. And you even buy him a shirt to wear especially to bed (cause he’ll wear anything you buy him) but he just wears it in public with no shame.

It’s his favorite shirt too — with random coffee stains from when you both have breakfast in bed, or just spend all day on those lazy Sundays. And probably even a few makeup stains that never came out from when you were having a hard time and he just held you as you cried.

You also always grab his titties when he wears the shirt because it’s just an invitation to do so and “Stop giving me that look, Pedro. You do it to me all the time.”

And he just responds, “Because they’re mine and I can do whatever I want to them.” And then proceeds to grab your boobs like a child. And that just leads to your guys rolling around in bed to see who can grab who's titties the most times.

He ends up winning, but that’s because he keeps making you laugh too hard to focus.

You give in and raise your hands in defeat, but he just takes that as an invite to pounce on you, wrapping you in his arms again, playfully kissing your entire face. Making sure to drag his nose across your face and down your neck before nuzzling it. The laughter hasn’t stopped.

He just holds you against him once the laughter dies down. It’s quiet, peaceful even with his breathing syncing to yours and the city sounds in the background. You can even hear Edgar snoring in the background. Pedro then decides to break the silence with, “Do you want to fuck?”

You start laughing again, and so does he, but it dies in his throat when you whip around and straddle him, holding his hands above his head to mimic a position you all were in only minutes before. “Is that even a question?”

He just smiles at you so fucking lovingly that it just mirrors exactly how you feel for him. You lean down, press a chaste kiss to his lips before playfully nipping at his nose. He snorts at you and pushes you over to climb over you. “You’re a dork, but you’re my dork.”

He kisses you gently, softly, making sure you feel every ounce of love he has for you in his kisses before trailing his lips down your cheek, your jaw, and to your throat. He licks down slowly between your tits before making his way back up and kissing you deeper and more passionately than anyone else ever has.

He pulls away to look at your dazed expression with a crooked smile before nibbling at your jaw, pulling whimpers from you and pleads. “I love you so much,” he coos as he slowly works you out of your clothes.

He makes sure to peel everything away slowly, imprinting your body into his mind forever. You reach to help him undress, but he pushes you back down on the bed. “I’m gonna take real good care of you. Just lay back.”

You grip his shirt, wanting it off. “What baby? What do you want? Use your words.” You just whine and say something along the lines of " _wanna feel you_ " and he gladly removes his clothes.

He taunts you with a little strip tease, making you squirm and giggle at the same time. When he gets close enough, you’d reach up and grab his shoulders, pulling his full weight onto you before wrapping your legs right around his hips. “Can you please cut the shit and fuck me already?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like you want it enough.”

“José”

“Oh no, don’t José me princess. Or I’ll stop completely.”

“Please don’t.”

He teasingly drags himself between your legs, listening to your needy whimpers. “Tell me what you want, my love. How should I fuck you today?”

Between kisses he asks, “Do you want it slow? Want me to take you apart piece by piece or do you want me to ruin you, angel? Make sure no other man could ever satisfy you the way I can?” He ends the sentence with a bite to the junction of your neck and shoulder, hard enough to be pleasurably painful.

You can’t take it anymore, you arch your back and urge his hips flush against you. “I don’t care!! Just please....use me. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Make me feel good!”

He hums and decides that he wants to taste you, because as he always likes to say, you're “sweeter than honey” and you’re the best thing he ever tasted, but you really think he just has an oral fixation (not that you’ve brought it up because are you really gonna complain?).

He brings you to the very edge, over and over, listening to your whimpers and pleads to just let you cum. “No no sweet girl, you told me I could use you, and I want to make sure you finish when I’m inside you.”

Eventually takes mercy on you and pushes inside. He doesn't even start gentle. You don’t need him to. He's riled himself up too much to want to go slow.

All you can do it hold onto him as his hips snap against yours harder and faster, digging your nails into his shoulders, not caring if it leaves marks for days.

Fuck, but he loves those marks. He lives to be scarred by you. He loves knowing he’s all yours. It only spurs him on to snap faster, to bring you both closer to bliss.

You scream out when you finally hit your peak, biting into his shoulder to muffle your moans against his skin. He praises you through clenched teeth, nearly there. “That’s a good girl! Let me hear you.”

He’s so close. “Where you want it baby?” You’re whimpering, barely concentrating past the over stimulation. “Come on sweet girl, tell me where you want it.”

“Inside. Fuck, please.” And he groans so loud, burying his head in your neck as he finishes.

Your body convulses under his from the unexpected second orgasm triggered by feeling him cum inside you. It’s wracks through your body harder than the first, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Baby, you feel so good. I can feel you squeezing me tighter.”

He lays there on top of top of you, inside of you for awhile. He's heavy but it feels nice to have him still there.

You whisper to him. “I love you.”

He pulls back and gives you a gentle kiss. “And I love you.”

You end up back in the position you were hours ago, his arms wrapped tight around you and your face nuzzled into his neck. Your breathing evens out together, and as you drift off to sleep he whispers, “Tomorrow, I’ll let you take the lead.”


End file.
